Poetry

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Open Your ear to my words,
Hearing my inner most thoughts;
Sounding as if they were birds,
Pleading to remove the blots.

Pay attention to my cry,
For I only pray to you;
And I kneel as I ask why,
Since I am telling all true.

In the morning hear my voice,
For up front I lay my needs;
Give me a sign to rejoice,
Nourishment that my faith feeds.

Evil, You have no pleasure,
And never to be Your guest;
Only the goodness You treasure,
The humbled willingly blest.

Anyone who loves to brag,
Can never stand in Your sight;
For their attitude You tag,
As a disease like the blight.

You hate the troublemakers,
You destroy those who tell lies;
For You know they are fakers,
Then You laugh hearing their cries.

Disgusted with those people,
Bloodthirsty and deceitful;
Not abiding to the Gospel,
Since they are not that thoughtful.

But I have entered Your house,
Because Your mercy and grace;
Humbles me just like a mouse,
As I can feel Your embrace.

Lead me in Your righteousness,
Because those who spy on me;
Try to steal Your blessedness,
And the wisdom that I see.

Copyright © 2015 Richard Newton Sherrer

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